


Am I unworthy of love?

by ElineHasAllTheFeels



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Can these two dumbasses just get together, Caring Brett, Casey is blind, Deep down they love each other, Drunk Casey, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s08e09 Best Friend Magic, F/M, Love, One Chicago (Chicago Franchise), One Shot, Pining, Sylvie is stubborn, brettsey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:40:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24845443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElineHasAllTheFeels/pseuds/ElineHasAllTheFeels
Summary: 'Am I unworthy of love?' Matt is drunk and trying to deal with Gabby leaving, and Sylvie is left to pick up the pieces. He needs a friend right now, so that's what she will be. But what if she wants them to be something else?
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Comments: 15
Kudos: 69





	Am I unworthy of love?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!  
> This is my very first fanfic for this fandom, so I am a little nervous about posting this. Please be nice, haha. I binged the show these past few months during quarantine, and now that I'm all caught up I don't know what to do with myself. I needed to see these characters again, so I wrote this. Haven't written anything in years, but this idea simply got under my skin and wouldn't leave my head until I'd written it down.  
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

‘Am I unworthy of love?’  
  
It was a regular night at Molly’s. The bar was reaching closing time, yet it was still packed. Herrmann and Otis were slaving away behind the counter, and the fairy lights above shone just as brightly as ever. And Sylvie? Sylvie Brett found herself sitting across from one very intoxicated Matthew Casey.  
  
She had learned through trial and error that if Matt was in a mood like this, he didn’t expect an answer to such questions. He’d probably even get offended if she’d try to offer one. But that didn’t stop the statement from piercing right through her heart. She looked at the man across from her, so clearly lost in whatever he was dealing with, and she felt like she could cry from that sight alone.  
  
‘It would make sense, I guess,’ he said. The alcohol was making him slur, and Sylvie had lost track of what number of drinks the guy was on, but it didn’t matter. Years of working on ambo 61 with patients drunk or high out of their mind had perfected her abilities to make out what anyone was saying at any given moment. Matt could have been speaking with a hot potato in his mouth, his lips glued together, and Sylvie would still understand  
  
She pushed down the feeling that there was a whole ‘nother reason for her hanging onto Matt’s every word.  
  
‘I mean, there’s a pattern there. Dad. Mom. Andy. Hallie. Dawson.’ Was she making it up, or had he added “and you” to that sentence? Surely he hadn’t, right? There was no way that was what he’d actually said. He’d said it so softly, not even her skilful hearing could’ve made that out. It was just wistful thinking. The implications of that were not lost on her.  
  
Matt fell silent as he stared at his glass. There still was quite some amber liquid in it, and after sloshing it around a few times Matt gulped it down in one go. Slamming the glass on the table a little louder than he’d probably intended, he looked over at the bar. Sylvie recognized his intentions, and gently covered his hand with hers. ‘Maybe that’s enough?’ she kindly suggested.  
  
What she saw in his eyes when he faced her was enough to nearly destroy her, but she pushed it down because he needed her to be strong right now. On the inside, though, she cursed Dawson. For leaving in the first place. For coming back without notice. For playing with Matt’s emotions. For leaving again, with nothing more than a voicemail as a way of goodbye. She loved her former partner, truly, but her ability to make a mess of things had always been something Sylvie had despised.  
  
Matt had acted like nothing was wrong. He’d come into the firehouse as usual, and did his job like it was any other day. But in his quiet moments, when things around him were busy and he thought nobody would be watching, there was this sadness. This overpowering, all-consuming sadness. Nobody noticed, but Sylvie did. Sylvie always noticed. Because those quiet moments, when he was sure nobody was watching, were the only moments she’d allow herself to sneak a peek.  
  
Matt Casey was off limits. She knew this as certainly as that she knew the sky was blue and that grass was green. He was the ex-husband of someone she still considered to be one of her closest friends. He was her co-worker and anything between them would most definitely be frowned upon. And, maybe most importantly, Matt was not ready for a new relationship. At all. Whatever this conversation was that Sylvie found herself in now was more proof than she’d ever need to know that. What Matt needed now was a friend, so a friend she would be. Any other feelings would have to be ignored.  
  
Knowing it might backfire, but feeling like she had to anyway, she answered his question. ‘You’re not unworthy of love, Matt. You’re just a bit unlucky, is all.’  
  
Sylvie braced herself for whatever response may come, but that fear was quickly wiped away. Matt tilted his head, clearly trying to take in what she’d just said. He scrubbed a hand over his face. God, she loved it when he did that. There was something so pure about the gesture, so honest. As if he was wiping away his mask and showcasing everything that was underneath, just for her.  
  
‘A bit’s an understatement,’ he slurred. A surprised laugh left her throat. The sip she had just taken went down wrong because of it, and she started coughing vehemently. Making a vague gesture towards the bar to wave away any concern, she focused on not suffocating. She felt a hand on her back, and when she finally looked up with teary eyes, she saw Matts face close to hers, frowning.  
  
‘Y’kay?’ he muttered, swaying on his feet. The sight made her want to ignore her better judgement. It would be so easy to bridge the small gap between them and to kiss him, right there and then. To make him forget all about Gabby and the pain he was feeling and to make him know that he was not unworthy of love, far from it. But it were the same eyes that made her want to hold him and never let go that made her lean back slightly. That’s not what Matt needed right now. He needed a friend, she told herself sternly. That’s all that she could be right now.  
  
‘I’m fine,’ she assured him. When it was clear he didn’t believe her, she took another sip of her water and smiled. ‘See? Just swallowed wrong, nothing the matter.’ Matt nodded and made an attempt to get back to his stool, but completely missed. If it wasn’t for Sylvie’s quick reflexes of years of dealing with drunks, she wouldn’t have been able to prevent him from falling onto his face.  
  
‘You don’t seem fine though, mister,’ she scolded, draping his arm over her shoulders. ‘How about I get you home instead?’  
  
Matt tried to protest, but his words were unintelligible, even for her. She decided to just ignore them. She looked over at the bar, and luckily caught Herrmann’s eyes. She gestured at Matt and sort of half-shrugged by way of apology. Herrmann nodded and made an offhand gesture. She smiled at him, hoping that smile conveyed that she’d be back to pay both their tabs at a later time, and started the undertaking of hauling Matt to her car.  
  
He wasn’t much help, and by the time he was seated in the passenger seat, Sylvie was panting heavily. No amount of spinning classes could prepare her for carrying the weight of one very drunk firefighter. But as she looked at him, slumped in his seat, she couldn’t help but smile.  
  
She reached over him to fasten his seatbelt, but a hand on her face stopped her. When she looked up she saw his eyes drilling into hers with this intense quality to them he’d usually reserved for Gabby. She wouldn’t have been able to look away even if she’d wanted to. Everything seemed to stop for a second. Time moved more slowly than it ever had, and all there was in the world was the two of them.  
  
Matt muttered something, breaking the spell. His hand dropped to his lap, and his head tipped forwards. He was passed out cold.  
  
Sylvie couldn’t move, let alone breathe. She hung there, leaning over a passed out Matt, her thoughts racing. Did that really just happen? Had he said what she’d thought she heard him say? No. There was no way. He was confused about Gabby, and that was that.  
  
But as she fastened his seatbelt and turned on the ignition, she couldn’t push down the small smile that crept onto her face. She hadn’t misheard. Not this time. And even if this was going to be the only time she’d ever hear him say it, the “I love you” still made her feel like dancing in the rain.  
  
With her heart feeling lighter than it had all month, she pulled out onto the road and set out for Matt’s apartment.


End file.
